Versuri T.I. – Ring ft. Young Thug lyrics
Yeah
(DY Krazy)
Few young G’s and OG’s, you know
(DJ on the beat so it’s a banger)
That choppa, though
I let it ring (Brr), you know that I mean (Yeah)
I don’t drink green (Uh-uh), I need my cream (Let’s go)
I just wanna cum on her (What?), her face and her spleen (Ugh-ugh)
I just wanna let that b*tch (What?), let that b*tch ring (Huh-huh)
When shit get wrong, it can’t go right
Now I’ve been known to get shit blown
Up out of proportion, bomb on site
Be careful with your body, put that on ice
I’m not gon’ tweet, I’m not gon’ type
Whatever you say, okay, alright
You pick your fate, you pay your price
Just know I do not play, alright, alright
Lil’ buddy acting hard (What?)
I’ll send him to God (I’ll send him to God)
My dawgs like Dodge (Ayy)
They pull up and charge (Pull up and ayy)
I’m ridin’ in the ten speed (Skrrt)
It’s hard to pull out the ‘rage (Yeah)
It’s dark, I’m f*ckin’ your daughters (Yeah)
They twins, I’m Mr. Rogers
’96 Impala with a hundred thousand dollars in the trunk
They talk shit, we follow them punks
They cross that line, then bodies gettin’ dumped
Fast forward twenty-five years, and I grew up
N*gga talk shit, don’t do shit to him
Press that line and your string get pulled
Got a problem, bring it to him
Just don’t be so immature
I let it ring (Brr), you know that I mean (Yeah)
I don’t drink green (Uh-uh), I need my cream (Let’s go)
I just wanna cum on her (What?), her face and her spleen (Ugh-ugh)
I just wanna let that b*tch (What?), let that b*tch ring (Huh-huh)
When shit get wrong, it can’t go right
Now I’ve been known to get shit blown
Up out of proportion, bomb on site
Be careful with your body, put that on ice
I’m not gon’ tweet, I’m not gon’ type
Whatever you say, okay, alright
You pick your fate, you pay your price
Just know I do not play, alright, alright
Shoot you on sight, don’t blame it on Sprite
Don’t blame it on ice, don’t blame it on drank
I took a lil’ X, I f*ck on my ex
I did a lil’ wrong, I’m makin’ it right
Where did he go? He ran out back
He must’ve ran track, I splat his back
I got war wounds under my tats
I got a few bloods, they all say, “Slatt”
I got a few crips, they all on Old Nat
I bust on her lips, but not her back
That’s not my b*tch, that’s not my nat
I’m just her pimp, I’m not her dad
The cops pulled me over, they smelled my thrax
It’s not my gat, but them my racks
And them my Louis and them my slacks
And this my car and that’s my b*tch
Ain’t none of my concern, keep me outta that shit
N*gga all on my dick, tryna follow my b*tch
If I catch him in Vegas, I’ma catch a new case
Fifty n*ggas with you, I’ma be in your face
N*gga thinkin’ shit a game, bet his ass get stabbed
Nineteen in the clip, let his ass get half
Best case scenario, get your ass kicked, man
Worst case, end up in a plastic bag
With no order, there is chaos, never let ’em handle, n*gga
Motherf*ckin’ player, I do it like an Atlanta n*gga
You do that shit for IG and the f*ckin’ camera
You won’t be happy ’til someone teach you some f*ckin’ manners
When shit get wrong, it can’t go right
Now I’ve been known to get shit blown
Up out of proportion, bomb on site
Be careful with your body, put that on ice
I’m not gon’ tweet, I’m not gon’ type
Whatever you say, okay, alright
You pick your fate, you pay your price
Just know I do not play, alright, alright
I let it ring (Brr), you know that I mean (Yeah)
I don’t drink green (Uh-uh), I need my cream (Let’s go)
I just wanna cum on her (What?), her face and her spleen (Ugh-ugh)
I just wanna let that b*tch (What?), let that b*tch ring (Huh-huh)
You know what the f*ck going on with us, man
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